


The Beginning of a Good Night (The Wings Spread Wide Remix)

by heyjupiter



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Background Slash, Gen, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1549475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warren Worthington III wishes he could just be a normal socialite and future CEO, at least until he finds himself captivated by the mysterious mutants  his mother has invited to her latest black tie gala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of a Good Night (The Wings Spread Wide Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmmaDeMarais](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaDeMarais/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Beginning of a Good Night](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/47687) by EmmaDeMarais. 



> Thanks to my beta reader pocky_slash, whose help was invaluable!

"Warren! There you are. It's almost time for the ball. Go get changed, darling, I had Mary press your tuxedo, " Adeline Worthington-Smythe says.

"Yes, Mother," Warren Worthington III replies. 

His tone must not have been to her liking, because she purses her lips and says, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you how important this ball is, not only for you, but for our company. For our _family_."

"Of course, Mother," Warren replies, knowing that the company and the family are all tied up together. Warren, the only Worthington heir, has been groomed to take over Worthington Industries since he was a toddler. Since before he unexpectedly sprouted huge white wings at the age of sixteen.

Warren leaves the sitting room, where he'd been reading the day's _Wall Street Journal_ and trying not to think about the night's plans. Up in his bedroom, he pulls his shirt over his head and checks his wristwatch. He has enough time to stretch his wings, he decides, and undoes the complicated system of straps that keep them tucked against his back. He sighs with relief as his wings expand up and out. He flaps them a few times. Not enough to make himself airborne, but enough to shake out some of the tension he carries there. Then he straps himself back in and puts on his tuxedo, just like he's done before every one of his family's black tie balls.

Downstairs, he has a quick drink in the kitchen before the party. He knows his mother was right about how important tonight's ball is. Usually these things are simply chances for Mother's wealthy connections to show off for each other, but tonight's stakes are higher.

If they're going to complete the work his late father started, they're going to need these men's help, willingly or not. If they can't come up with a way to cure Warren of his deformity, he'll end up a social pariah, instead of becoming the CEO of Worthington Industries, the way he's meant to be.

Finally, he leaves the safety of the kitchen for the ballroom, where a few guests are dancing before dinner is served. This ball is fairly standard, aside from Warren's secret mission. While waiting for their special guests to make their appearance, he drinks and watches his mother flirt with eligible bachelors of all ages. He can't fault her for that. 

The late Warren Worthington II had been a cold man. An excellent businessman, but a poor husband and a worse father, especially after Warren's wings emerged. 

Her second husband Harold Smythe had been kind enough, but so very old. Adeline can certainly do better her third time around.

For his part, Warren cares less about his mother's possibilities and more about the two mutants she's invited to their home tonight. His childhood friend Emma Frost, one of the very few people who knows about Warren's wings, has brought them some information about a mutant named Charles Xavier. Apparently he's a telepath, like Emma is, and he's working with the CIA on some kind of top secret project. She thinks that he and his companion, Erik Lehnsherr, might be able to help Warren with an important Worthington Industries project--attempting to cure Warren of his deformity. Emma's planted some psychic evidence to make the men believe Adeline wants to join their group of freaks, when in fact she wants to persuade them to work for Worthington Industries. By force if necessary. 

"All I ask in return is that you give me a call when you're finished with them," Emma had said. Warren doesn't fully understand how these men might help, or what the CIA wants with them. He can't even guess what the CIA might do if these two men go missing, although Emma hadn't been concerned about the CIA, and it seems that neither is his mother.

Warren's degree is in business, and he's good at that. He doesn't understand genetic engineering, and he understands this kind of espionage even less. Still, he has to trust that his mother is doing the right thing. If he can't trust her, then who?

Warren's not sure why she's bothering with this elaborate ball, except that his mother will take any excuse for a party. He suspects she's probably enjoying their discomfort.

His mother stops in front of him and says, "Darling, aren't you going to dance with anyone?"

"Of course, Mother, I was just refilling my drink."

"Make sure all of our visitors have a good time," she replies, her tone a veiled threat. Her eyes flick toward the two mutants.

"How could anyone have anything but a wonderful time here, Mother?" 

She gives him a freezing gaze and he smiles back with faux innocence. Then he drains his champagne glass and asks Julia Cooper--of the Westport Coopers--for the next dance.

"Of course, Warren," she says. Julia's decent looking, but she's not as pretty as she is rich. And she's not as rich as the Worthingtons are. She's not a marriage prospect for Warren, but she'll do for a dance.

They waltz around the ballroom. Julia regales him with some story or another about her Radcliffe days, while Warren sneaks glances at Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr. They're dancing together like a couple of nellies. The only reason the other guests aren't reacting is because Adeline isn't, and the only reason Adeline isn't is because she's hoping to perform medical experiments on them or some such thing.

"... all over my tennis whites, can you imagine?" Julia says.

"Heavens," Warren says vaguely, while Erik--the taller man--semi-discreetly kisses Charles's hair. Julia's back is to them, and Warren's thankful she hadn't seen.

"Luckily, one of my teammate had a spare set I could borrow. And, of course, we went on to beat Wellesley, which is all that matters, don't you agree?"

"Winning is certainly very satisfying," Warren says.

"Did you play any sports when you were at Yale?"

"No, I focused on my studies, as well as the debate association." Warren enjoyed athletic activities, but of course it would be impossible for him to participate in any team sport without revealing his biggest secret. It was hard enough to hide his wings when he was fully dressed, let alone in a locker room. "I do play tennis casually, however."

"Sometime we'll have to play!"

"Well, if you enjoy winning, you'd certainly enjoy playing tennis against me," Warren says dryly.

"Maybe I can give you a few pointers. After I beat you, of course."

"Of course," Warren echoes, hollowly returning her attempts at flirtation. The music ends, and he bows and thanks her for the dance. Then he goes for a drink refill. He's starting to have a good feeling about this ball, but that might just be the champagne.

Erik Lehnsherr, the taller of the two visiting mutants, approaches the bar. Warren nods at him politely. Erik nods back, but his attention is clearly captured by the sight of his companion Charles dancing with Warren's mother.

"Is this your first time at one of Adeline's affairs?" Warren knows the answer, of course, but he's still interested to hear what Erik will say.

"Yes, it's the first time I've had this… pleasure." Erik says the word "pleasure" as if it were poison.

"Ah, how lovely. And are you enjoying the ball?" Warren asks.

Erik gives a terse, pained smile and says, "What's not to love?"

Warren can think of a few things, but he laughs and lifts his glass. "What, indeed."

"And you? How are you enjoying the evening, Warren Worthington III?"

Warren's not surprised Erik knows of him. He's something of a public figure in the business world, and of course, if they're working with the CIA they would have investigated this event before attending. Still, it's a bit presumptuous of him. Too, it makes Warren a bit nervous about what else they might know about him. Emma assured him that she was keeping his secret safe, that she'd put a block in his mind to protect him from Xavier, but Warren had no way of knowing if that was for sure. Still, she'd also done something to make Xavier think that Adeline was a mutant--an extra degree of protection for Warren--and that did seem to have worked, given their guests' keen interested in her, and their willingness to play along with her requests.

Warren sharpens his smile and says, "You have the advantage over me, it seems, as you know my name and I don't know yours."

He extends his hand, and after a slightly too-long pause, Erik takes it and says, "Erik Lehnsherr."

" _Enchante_ ," Warren says. He's heard Erik speaking French to other guests.

"Ah. Where did you learn French?"

"Here and there," Warren says, by which he means Exeter and Yale and a semester in Paris. "And you?"

"I grew up in Europe," Erik says tersely. Warren tries to place his accent and fails. Despite his fluent French, Warren's fairly sure the man isn't from France, but he's not sure beyond that.

"Oh, where?" Like all of his peers, Warren has traveled around Europe extensively.

Erik's lips thin and he says, "Here and there." Then Erik's face brightens abruptly, and Warren turns to see Charles and Adeline approaching them.

"Ah, Erik! You made a friend!" Charles says, sounding genuinely pleased.

"Warren Worthington III," Warren says, extending his hand.

"Charles Xavier," Charles says, and his warm smile is the opposite of Erik's guarded expression. He gives the impression that talking to Warren is a pleasure, rather than something to be endured. Charles Xavier would make an excellent salesman, Warren thinks.

"Erik, will you do me the favor of giving me the next dance?" Adeline asks

Erik hesitates for a moment, and Warren sees Charles give him a sidelong glance and a hand squeeze. Erik forces a smile and says, "Just this once."

Adeline shoots a pointed look at Warren before sweeping Erik back to the dance floor. Warren's not quite sure if she was warning him about Charles or if she was urging him to talk to Charles. 

Then he hears Charles's voice directly inside his head, saying, _Warren, please listen to me._

Warren freezes. Aloud, Charles says, "It is a lovely ball. I'm so grateful to your mother for inviting us."

"Yes, she's an excellent hostess."

_Warren, I see now what has happened. The other telepath… Emma… I know you think she is your friend, but… you don't need to hide from us._

"I don't know what you're talking about," Warren hisses, hoping that no one overhears him replying to Charles's silent conversation.

_If you think your replies to me, I will hear them just as if you've said them aloud. It's a bit more private, don't you think?_

_It's a nice trick, but you must be mistaken. My mother is the… mutant. Not me._

Charles smiles sadly. _How long has it been since you've stretched your wings in the sunshine?_

 _I--you're mistaken,_ Warren forces himself to think.

_Warren, you're not alone. There are others of us with mutations. There's even another with wings. Why not join us? We could work together._

Aloud, Charles says, "Perhaps we had better go sit down. You look rather pale, Warren."

"I--yes," Warren says. He leads Charles away from the party, to a rarely used parlor on the second floor.

Charles says, "I understand, now, what your mother wanted. What you wanted. You'd hoped for Erik and I to work with the doctors and engineers at Worthington Industries, for us to find a way to… to cure you of your mutation. But we want the opposite. We want to help mutants like you learn how to harness their gifts."

Warren lets out an ugly snort of laughter. "I'm already _harnessing_ them just fine, thank you."

"Ah. That was a poor word choice on my part, I apologize. I mean, we will help you use them better. And you can be among others of your own kind."

"Don't you see?" Warren asks. He gestures back toward the party. "I am with others of my own kind, and they would never accept me if they knew about my deformity."

Charles winces. "Not a deformity, Warren. A _gift_. A lovely gift. Do you think I could see your wings?"

Warren says, "Are you crazy? No." Charles looks so hurt that Warren feels compelled to add, "It's just--it takes such a long time to get them in and out of the harness… I wouldn't be able to get them back in, if anyone came here unexpectedly."

"Ah! Perhaps Erik and Hank could come up with something more efficient for you."

"I don't mean to sound rude, but this is the best that Worthington Industries could come up with."

Charles smiles. "And _I_ don't mean to sound rude when I say that perhaps brilliant minds, who also happen to be mutants like you, may be able to help you better than human engineers, as good as they may be."

"I--I should get back to the ball, Charles. There are expectations of me…"

Charles licks his lips and says, "I understand. Believe me."

Warren says, "Wait. Charles Xavier, of the Westchester Xaviers?"

"Indeed."

"Ah." Warren remembers only vague snippets, but there had definitely been some kind of scandal about the Westchester Xaviers, years ago. 

"You're trying to remember my stepbrother, Cain Marko, and his incarceration at an early age," Charles says flatly.

"Yes," Warren says sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"If it weren't for my mother's money, he would have been sent away much sooner," Charles says. "It's what he deserved."

"I see."

Charles taps his temple and says, "I'm telling Erik to come meet me here as soon as we can, and then we will be leaving. We won't be party to whatever sales pitch--or worse--your mother has planned for us, I'm afraid. But you are more than welcome to join us, Warren. All of us."

Suddenly Warren's mind is filled with a vision of a pleasant mansion and vivid depictions of people Charles hasn't met yet. Including a lovely dark-skinned girl with dragonfly wings. Warren swallows hard, watching her zip around inside his mind's eye. Suddenly he realizes how foolish his mother was to think she could persuade these two to work for them--or worse, to think that she could possibly threaten them.

Encouragingly, Charles adds, "You wouldn't have to stay with us forever. You could just come join us for a short session. You live close enough that you could easily visit us on weekends."

"I have to stay with my mother," Warren says, thinking of how hard she'd worked to bring these mutants to him, however misguided her plan ultimately was. "And the business… someone has to take over the family business. I'm an only child, so the responsibility falls to me." 

Charles nods, as if he were expecting this answer. He reaches into his pocket and hands Warren a calling card with an address in Salem Center. "Well, my offer will stand indefinitely. If you ever decide you'd like to be in the company of your true brothers and sisters, please, do not hesitate to contact me."

"All right," Warren says, pocketing the card. He turns as the door swings open. 

Erik has joined them, an anxious expression on his face. Charles smiles and says, "Warren won't be joining us tonight, Erik, but perhaps another time."

"Perhaps," Erik says, his tone faintly dismissive.

Warren says, "You might attract less attention if you go out through the kitchen." He tries to _think_ the path to Charles, and it must work, because Charles smiles and thanks him.

"Safe travels," Warren says. He watches them leave the room. He spends a few moments gathering his thoughts before returning to the ball and dancing another waltz with Julia Cooper. Later that night, he tells his mother he hasn't the slightest idea where Charles and Erik might have gotten off to. She doesn't believe him, but nor does she argue with him. That's not his mother's way. 

A few weeks later, they hear from family friends that Emma Frost has gone missing. Her parents are distraught, and Warren wonders if perhaps the CIA had something to do with it. He says nothing and continues to harness his wings under his clothes every morning.

Six months later, Warren's mother remarries. Her new husband has a Harvard MBA and he takes over as CEO of Worthington Industries--aided behind the scenes, of course, by Adeline. While they're on their honeymoon, Warren pulls Charles Xavier's card out from under his mattress and decides to pay him a visit for the weekend. 

When he arrives at the Xavier estate on Friday evening, he discovers that some things have changed since that gala--Charles is now crippled, and no longer seems quite as cheerful as he once had. Erik is nowhere to be seen. Warren doesn't ask about Erik, but he does ask after the girl with wings. Charles gives him a wince and a head shake and finally a vague, "She's moved on from here."

But Charles is still a good salesman, and now that Worthington Industries is no longer his primary concern, Warren is particularly vulnerable to the pitch Charles is making. He lets his wings out all weekend and is amazed at how much more relaxed his shoulders feel. 

On Saturday he plays a game of basketball high above the court with Sean Cassidy. It's the most fun he's had in years, and he doesn't even mind when, at dinner afterwards, a shy redheaded girl tries to pass him the gravy using her mental powers and inadvertently ruins a bespoke Oxford shirt.

By Sunday afternoon he's decided to accept Charles's new offer. He signs on to become the first math and accounting teacher at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

With a hint of a smile, Charles says, "I think you'll find this is a place where you can really spread your wings."

Warren rolls his eyes at the pun, but he feels inclined to agree.


End file.
